A Little Unsteady
by Unmasked Potential
Summary: It's been three days since Loki joined the Avengers Initiative, two months after the battle of New York City. Loki's body decides to kick off the celebrations by fainting...multiple times. How will the other Avengers react to this new development? And will Loki feasibly be able to join the team if his problem continues? Reviews are candy!
1. Chapter 1

It had been three days.

Three days since Loki had joined the Avengers Initiative, aiding Earth's mightiest heroes in their pursuit for intergalactic safety.

They hadn't exactly warmed up to him immediately, which was understandable, but on that cursed Wednesday afternoon, things were about to change.

Loki had awoken late in the day, or at least, it appeared so because he didn't leave his quarters until two in the afternoon (he'd found some books mother had packed for him amongst his things and taken to reading throughout the early morning hours).

Loki was just stepping onto the floorboards of the common area when the first wave of dizziness hit him.

His vision swirled in a sickening cascade of colors and dull, far away sounds met his ears. He swallowed reflexively, hoping the spell would pass.

Luckily, for him, it did.

Until, that is, he was standing at the toaster and the second wave of dizziness hit him square in the face.

That time, he wasn't so lucky.

He could feel the emergence of his late night snack returning to the back of his throat and he rushed out a hand to his left, hoping to grab ahold of something strong and sturdy. Instead, his wrist ineffectually smacked into the granite countertop and his breath hitched in his throat.

Cut off from some desperately needed air supply, the dizziness propelled even further against his brain, rattling off the chain of events that would be the end of Loki's self-preserved dignity.

The newest onslaught of dizziness caused Loki's vision to blur to a sickening degree, what was once the picture of the Avenger's kitchen now just a pooling mix of color and shapeless objects. Then there was the awareness of Loki's absent breaths, and his heart thundering so hard into the frame of his armor that he could feel the metal and leather pulsating. Next, it was the unsteadiness of his feet as his heels backed up and there was nothing behind his body to catch him.

So plummet to the floor he did, back of his raven hair colliding harshly with the nutmeg tiles. Feeling a bump, if not blood, sprout from his head to the cool floor, Loki's vision finally darkened, his world collapsing inwards.

~#~

"What the fuck was that?" Clint Barton, nesting atop the farthest chair's armrest, blurted out as a loud thump echoed from the kitchen.

Steve Rogers, clad in an embarrassingly tight Captain America pajama set, swiveled around from his own chair and threw a glance over his shoulder. Steve noticed the long black hair first, and with that knowledge, began searching in his mind's eye for a face that belonged to those handsome locks.

Steve's eyes widened as he thought of their newest villain turned superhero team member.

"Oh crap," Steve muttered, quickly placing down his sandwich onto his paper plate (the team were still in disagreement about who should clean the dishes every Wednesday) and hurrying over to the kitchen connected to the lounge area of which the Avengers could stare longingly at the television or drearily out the open glass (as Tony had yet to fix it from New York's latest alien invasion).

"Language!" Barton cried out, feigning a shocked expression at the Captain, before begrudgingly following far behind him.

Steve leaped over the small coffee table and an overturned chair before his eyes were surveying the scene and the God of Mischief who lay unmoving on the kitchen floor. Questions milling in Steve's mind, he knelt down alongside the demigod, for a moment hesitant that this might be some trick, until he recognized the blood sliding out from Loki's head.

"Serves him right," Barton clipped out, shaking his head back and forth, a frown and a look of distaste sinking into his features.

"Clint, we don't even know what happened," Steve pointed out, leaning forward and placing two fingers to where he assumed the demigod's pulse would be.

Loki's skin was cooler than Steve expected it to be and to match this disconcerting fact was that his heart was performing theatrical leaps and bounds than what Steve considered would be normal for the trickster.

"He doesn't get to wreak havoc on New York City and bring a crazy alien invasion into our world and then expect us to forgive him so easily when he returns to Earth two months later," Barton pointed out roughly, his fists curling at his sides as Steve had to suppress a sigh from coming between his lips.

"Clint, I really don't think now is the time for this. I think he's seriously unwell here," Steve motioned to the pale Loki, paler than he was even a few seconds prior.

"Jarvis," Steve addressed the AI before Barton could utter a scathing retort. "Did you see what happened here?"

"Of course, sir," Jarvis smoothly replied, "it appears to my sensors that Mr. Laufeyson has fainted. However, I am not certain as to why."

Steve nodded in ascension, "Call Bruce and get him here as quickly as you can."

"Right away, sir," was Jarvis' cool reply.

~#~

Bruce Banner, brown eyes lit up with concern as his exquisite form skidded from the elevator, walked into the room expecting the worst. Granted, when Jarvis had called for him saying there was an emergency in the Avenger's lounge, involving Loki, he had imagined that Clint was probably lying somewhere in the rafters with a dagger sticking out of his back. Or, that Steve was lying compromised-again, no less-in his pajamas upon the floor with bruises lacing up and down his calves.

What he didn't expect however, was that Loki would be the one injured this time.

Furrowed brows linking together in further concern and slight curiosity, Bruce found his voice filtering from his mouth before he could realize he was talking, "What happened?"

Bruce eyed Clint suspiciously, pondering if this was some form of late retaliation from the archer.

Clint huffed, hands rising in the air, "Whoa, whoa, whoa, I had _nothing_ to do with this."

Steve shook his head, affirming, "He didn't, Bruce. Loki just passed out. Neither of us saw what happened-except Jarvis."

Bruce's eyes narrowed considerably. "How long has he been out?"

"Four minutes, thirty-three seconds, sir," Jarvis chimed in.

Bruce eyed the trickster god, his eyes calculating. Loki was lying there pale, bleeding, and breathing shallowly.

Bruce leaned over and placed his fingers alongside Loki's neck. His eyes widened in surprise.

"His heartrate's fast, isn't it?" Steve asked, worry reflecting in his eyes.

"…Maybe," Bruce spoke hesitantly, "but we don't know what's normal for his species."

"I hardly doubt that's his normal heartrate," Steve said determinedly.

"It's concerning," Bruce agreed, looking carefully at Loki as if the demigod's form would offer clues to the puzzle they were trying to solve.

Unexpectedly, a groan slipped past Loki's open lips, ragged between breaths of air.

"Loki?" Bruce leaned forwards a little more, hand slipping from Loki's throat to his chest. Bruce instinctively glanced at his hand with a quirk of his eyebrows, noticing as he could feel the galloping sensation of Loki's heart. _Well, that can't be good,_ Bruce thought to himself, teeth plucking at his bottom lip.

~#~

His name, he heard his name.

Someone was trying to break through the colossal darkness that was wrapping itself around his cool shoulders and beckoning him further down, down into its depths.

He flicked his head to the side, trying to smother the darkness and its raspy whispers, but his head exploded with a pain that sent his breath colliding one after the other.

Air, he needed air.

He gasped, trying to get more air into his lungs but they felt like they were burning, curling up and roiling under his ribs.

He couldn't get any air through.

 _Hyperventilation,_ the word pinpricked through his mind, glowing bright white and dazzling at the edges. Part of him was recognizing that his body was out of his control and it was so out of his control that he was losing control of himself.

Wait, what?

He felt his eyes moving right and left, trying to open, but remaining closed.

He sputtered reflexively, choking on his spit as he gulped in another breath of air, while his lungs demanded more, more, more.

Finally, he wedged his eyelids apart and the blurry form of two floating heads came into his line of vision.

No, not floating heads… Avengers' heads.

 _By the Norns, this is even worse,_ he thought.

"Loki?"

His name, said again as though it were spoken underwater, met his ears and he gazed to his left, coming to eventually see Bruce Banner staring at him with an emotion muddling his features.

His breathing hitched at the memory of the monster ripping him a new one. He felt something stutter in his chest, while his mind was distracted by what kind of new Hel he had landed himself in.

"Loki, I need you to take slow, deep breaths," that was Bruce talking, and he indicated himself as he took a long, deep breath. "Can you do that for me, Loki?"

Loki felt like muttering _anything you say_ but the words didn't dare to form or come to his lips. He nodded instead, and tried to control his uncontrollable breaths slowly, one at a time.

It was difficult, but with enough concentration he was able to draw in one breath, long and slow, and exhale it after waiting for a count of three. Then he drew in the next breath, and slowly, after a few minutes, his lungs didn't feel so deathly on fire and he could feel the nausea from his abdomen clearing.

His head still ached like a bitch, but the colorful dots were disappearing from the sides of his vision and he could more clearly see that he was lying embarrassingly still on the kitchen floor, with three Avengers, not just two, standing over him.

He let out a sheepish, humorless laugh.

"Um, yeah, so…can I… get up now?" Loki's cheeks reddened with embarrassment, the mother hen role streaming out of Banner and the Captain feeling overwhelmingly similar to Thor's bashful and overpowering concern.

With sheepish, awkward replies soon muttered, Bruce helped Loki to sit up, mentioning to him that he wasn't done with him yet.

Loki stilled with horror, while Banner motioned to Loki's head wound and cleaning that up.

"Oh, right," Loki tried to play off coolly, as if he wasn't expecting anything other than that comment.

He heard Barton scoff in a nearby corner, and almost threw a dagger-like glare at him, before remembering the buzzing still echoing around his brains.

While Loki was getting cleaned up from Banner, the leftover Avengers heard the not so discreet shout from Tony Stark when he found the mess left in the kitchen.

"Who the hell bled over these nutmeg tiles? Seriously, people, this is why we can't have nice things!"


	2. Chapter 2

A week had passed since Loki's fainting and the Avengers were still treating him with precarious unease. To the trickster, it made him roll his eyes in annoyance and not at all tickled his insides with gratitude and acknowledgement.

Steve had been cooking and offering Loki various meals, which although he had cooked before Loki's passing out, he hadn't ever so directly offered him the food. Normally he would have just left it out in the kitchen until the demigod had wandered through and taken the plate, hurrying back to his room to entertain himself with his books rather than the Midgardian foolishness of a 'television.'

However, since his fainting?

Loki could barely make it two feet into the kitchen before Steve would dutifully hover around him, offering to open cabinets for the god, and help out in every which way he could.

Of course, Loki milked this for the first couple of days, but after a week? Loki wasn't some petulant child who needed to be treated like fine china, he was a god after all, and he was far superior to this team of heroes.

That's the air of pride which carried Loki into Tony Stark's lab that fateful, fateful Friday.

Chin held high and confidence pouring out from the trickster's green eyes; he dragged a lean finger over a pile of scrap metal in a rather bloated box.

"Do you ever clean?" Loki uttered in distaste, smudging the dust between his fingers as he eyed the Man of Iron working elbows deep in a new project. At least, Loki assumed it was a new project as it was just a heap of junk with barely movable parts and oil leaking from more than three different places.

"Not really, but are you offering, Reindeer Games?" Tony retorted mildly over this shoulder, tongue parting his lips as he rummaged around the metal. "God, you think it'd be a lot easier to manipulate this without it being attached to….whatever it was attached to before."

Loki rolled his eyes, "Truly fascinating, Stark."

Tony shrugged his shoulders, pulling back with satisfaction as he wiped his grimy hands on a black splotched blue rag. At least, Loki thought it was once blue back in the day.

"Hey, you're the one who decided to willingly come down to my lab for the day," Tony mentioned, walking over to another box of robotic pieces, fishing for something in particular.

"Why yes, as you stated you would have a project for me to manipulate. Yet, I see no such promise appearing before my eyes, so if you don't mind, I think I shall be going now," Loki began to turn on his heel just as he heard the triumphant billionaire pull out a small, metallic box.

"Here it is!" Tony held the box outstretched to the trickster.

Loki eyed him with suspicion.

"What is it?"

"Just take it."

" **What** is it?"

Tony sighed heavily, rolling his brown eyes. "It's your new project." Tony muttered an almost inaudible 'duh' once Loki tentatively reached out his slim hand and took the box.

"It's a prototype for making the team equipped, with your magical aide, of having things appear and disappear," Tony waved at Loki's form in a sputtering array of arm gestures. "It's pretty early stages but I was thinking you could tinker with it with your magic. You know, spread your holiness into the box and make it equipped to do…whatever it is you do."

Loki raised a brow at Tony, pondering the idea over in his mind as his eyes followed the curves and smooth corners of the box.

"While magic is more complicated than you have the brainpower to understand, your idea is…amusing, at best."

"Amusing schmoozing," Tony remarked, waving his hands in the air again and picking up his scotch from a nearby lopsided table. "It's still in the planning stages, and I don't have your wit or flawless accent to make the idea sound more up your alley." Tony shrugged, tipping his drink to Loki subtly. "There's only one of you, after all."

Loki smirked in mischief, "Are you sure about that?"

Tony's face took on a squeamish look. "Eugh, please no more of your weird duplication shit. I still haven't gotten over the pranks you pulled from the last one-which, by the way, you still owe me for saving your ass when it came to what you did to the mayor."

Loki's pleasure reached his eyes then, his orbs twinkling.

"You've got to admit, she even laughed about it after the fact," Loki replied, observing the memories of the event fondly in his mind.

"Yeah, after she was ready to throw you into jail and make you the next prison bitch," Tony downed his scotch, and waved to a box by Loki's right. "Now, put that down and make yourself useful and bring me that crowbar from over there." Tony gestured to the general vicinity of where Loki would expect to find a crowbar.

Loki gently set down the metallic box on the nearest workbench and set about finding the crowbar. Pulling the rusty contraption from behind a few stray tires and an empty bottle of gin, Loki held the tool as far from his Asgardian clothing as he possibly could, imagining the filth that crawled over his fingers from merely touching the damned thing.

He was about three feet away from Stark when the world began to shift off kilter.

Loki reached out an arm and this time grasped onto the back of a lone chair, his knuckles turning white as his strength caused the chair to wince and groan.

Thinking that he was maybe tilting his head, Loki straightened himself but it did nothing to re-straighten the world around him. The horizontal edges of Stark's lab began to shift perpendicular to the drinking billionaire.

Loki swallowed thickly, his tongue feeling too large for his mouth as cotton balls seemed to sprout within his ears.

The filthy crowbar slipped from Loki's weakening grip, clattering to the ground with a loud yelp.

The shallow edges of Stark's frame rippled as the mechanic began to turn around and level an annoyed glare at the trickster.

That is, of course, until Loki just managed to see the flicker of confusion flash in Stark's eyes, his body turning to face Loki head-on.

"Y-ou- o-kay, L-o-ki?"

Every syllable in Tony's worried tone contorted and stretched out in the presence of Loki's ears. Loki meant to shake his head, thoughts dripping in his mind and repeating themselves over and over as he wondered, _what's happening to me?_

"L-o-ki?"

His vision shifted in and out like a camera lens on a swaying leaf, as the world turned ever sourer, the ceiling mixing into the floor and vice versa.

He couldn't even feel his mouth open as he heard his echoing voice whisper, "I-I'm not."

Whether that was in relation to Stark's question or just an admission that something was significantly wrong with him, he wasn't entirely sure. His bones began to feel like liquefied jelly as his world continued to sway as if he were standing on a boat.

Maybe barely standing was more accurate.

"M-be I sh- call -uce."

Speech was becoming intangible to Loki as he closed his eyes to shut out the world, hoping it would stop the world from spinning and warping and distorting, but all it did was make the nausea more pronounced.

Loki felt his body yank forwards, his mouth sputtering as something slopped out from his lips, landing onto the ceiling with a sickening plop.

Fear laced its way through Loki's veins, his mind chattering **alone alone alone alone** to a nonsensical degree.

This must have been the longest, most agonizing bout of sickness Loki had ever felt in his life, and as a Jotun runt pretending to be Asgardian, he had shared his fair bit of sickness in the past.

But this?

This was something warped and unfamiliar, strange and disconcerting.

Loki could feel his brain beginning to hover in the air above his skull, stripped of its holder and dancing like a bear with a tinfoil hat.

His joints began to loosen and his body in reality must have been swaying, as the familiar round of dizziness from his previous fainting spell collided full force into Loki's mangled form.

He gave a guttural sound of shock before he limply collided into something warm.

~#~

The next thing Loki was aware of was the smooth rise and fall of his chest. It felt like his arms were crossed over his torso and the simple act of breathing let Loki know that he was still alive. There was both some comfort and discomfort in acknowledging that thought.

Loki then became aware of his heart beating, which was more soothing than he ever recalled it being before.

His senses were gradually returning to him and he recognized the feeling of someone else's breaths beneath his body and the warmth of their exhales on the top of his head.

The smell of unpleasant moth balls and stray amounts of dust filtered through his nostrils and he huffed in response, hoping to expel the little demons.

A voice behind him prompted his eyelids to flutter open.

"Loki?"

The trickster groaned in response, Tony Stark's voice sounding more graveled and bent than he could care to remember.

Stark tensed beneath him, as anxiety gripped him in a choke hold.

"Are you with me?"

Green eyes traveled over the rusted crowbar, now separated into two distinct pieces, lying a good two feet from where the two men were lying.

It's not that Loki couldn't answer Stark's questions; it's just that his brain was barely functioning at its normal rate and he didn't dare possess the strength needed to deal with the fool. Had he been in his right state of mind, he would have known this wouldn't ease Stark in the slightest. The man could talk for ages about nothing at all, for goodness sake.

"I-I mean, you can't be dead, right? You'd tell me if you were dead, right?"

Loki sputtered a hissing laugh at Stark's concern.

"I'd be too busy being dead though, wouldn't I?" it was a lame retort but with Loki's strained voice it came out well enough.

Tony huffed out a relieved sigh.

"Oh thank god, you're alive," the mechanic uttered, a slight bend of sarcasm dripping into his voice.

"It appears that way," Loki replied, wanting then to begin separating his limbs from the mess of Stark's but finding he had no leeway.

Before he could start the process of arriving once again on his own two feet, Bruce Banner's duplicate face appeared in Loki's line of vision.

"Still think you're just fine?" Bruce's clipped tone asked the trickster, a throwback to the week Loki had spent reassuring his new teammates that his first fainting spell was just that, a first and never to be repeated again.

Loki shrugged with one shoulder, "Maybe it's something worth looking into."

Bruce quirked a questioning brow but held out his hand for the trickster to reach out for.

Begrudgingly and with slight embarrassment, Loki accepted the gesture, still feeling weak and off from his latest spiral into the chasms of darkness.

"I'd like you to meet me in the infirmary before you head back to your room," Bruce said, already expecting Loki to wander off unsteadily down the corridor and retreat to his bedroom.

"Why? I didn't fall and hit anything this time." Loki bluntly stated, rubbing the back of his neck so as to hide the tremors in his hands.

"Except me," Stark muttered under his breath, standing up faster than Loki did in a way that made the trickster momentarily despise him.

Bruce eyed the trickster with consideration and an overflowing amount of patience.

"I don't want to push you, Loki, as I know you're easily skittish, but fainting twice within one week is…concerning to say the least," Bruce motioned to the room around them briefly. "Besides, you're a part of this team now and as a teammate, we tend to care for one another. I don't like seeing you in this state of illness and I'm sure you don't enjoy experiencing it."

"And if I did?" Loki challenged, chin rising in the air as his eyes narrowed at the doctor.

"We'd totally call you a masochist from now on," Stark supplied, peeking over the side of Bruce's shoulder.

"Do you enjoy experiencing it?" Bruce countered easily and Loki's distaste showed plainly on his face. "That's what I thought. Just, be careful and try and give us some warning next time."

Loki scoffed, "Right, like I can wake up in the morning and say to myself 'You know, today I think I'll faint.'"

Bruce shook his head mildly, "You know what I meant."

"How could I? When you make it sound like it's ever so _voluntary_ for me to willingly experience these…episodes," Loki spat in contempt, anger swirling inside his chest.

Bruce sighed pitifully, hoping to evade another argument with the demigod as the last one had gotten them all in trouble with a police officer.

"All I ask is that you take care of yourself better. That means eating meals with us more often than spending time secluded in your room. And actually sleeping and eating said meals would help too," Bruce pointed out, giving the demigod an unamused look. "It's one thing to fill your plate with food and another to actually swallow its contents."

Loki sighed in mirth, tapping an impatient foot on the floor.

"Also, if this happens again, we're going to have to alert Thor," Bruce rubbed the side of his stiff jaw. "I know you didn't want him to know about last time but now that this has happened twice….he really should know about it."

"That oaf doesn't deserve to know anything about me. Not after his bargain with the Allfather was to send me into the company of you so called mightiest heroes."

"Even so," Stark cut in, brown eyes leveling the noncompliant demigod. "Thor still knows you better than we do, especially about your species. And, since we're no medical doctors on your Frost Giant heritage, and because said heritage makes up your anatomical make-up, it's better than going on nothing, which is pretty much what we have right now."

Loki let out a controlled, steady exhale, counting to ten in his mind to quell the anger within his throat.

"Very well, I will accept these terms and conditions. But mark my words, you will not have to bend over backwards to aid me in this manner again."

Loki quickly turned on his heels then, sauntering off to exit Tony's lab.

He didn't miss a beat when he overheard Stark muttering, "Yeah, because it's oh so _voluntary_."

* * *

 **A/N:  
** Hey everyone! Here's an update to this fic! I'm already cooking up in my brains the ideas for the next two chapters, and then there'll be some resolved two chapters afterwards, so we may wind up with a 7 chapter long fic. I've been in an awesome writing mood and will likely have another one-shot up by the end of the week. :D

I hope everyone is enjoying this! Poor Loki though ^^; Thank you for all the faves and follows! *hugs*


	3. Chapter 3

A Little Unsteady

Chapter 3

Renewed: 4/24/17

Two months.

Two months, thirteen hours and twenty-seven minutes.

That was how long it had been since Loki's last 'attack.' After his last one, Loki had silently begun to call them his 'attacks' rather than his 'episodes'. The name fit better and sounded more daring and exciting, which was hardly what it felt like to experience them, but the change of language gave him something to laugh about.

Granted, Loki recognized the contradiction within his mind's words.

How could he be describing his attacks as attacks if the last one had been over two months ago?

Okay, so, technically, he'd had a few more since then, but who was counting? There'd only been five and they weren't nearly as extreme.

As far as Loki was concerned, he was on top of Midgard ready for an army to be made and fight at his disposal.

So when he decided to work out-after much bargaining with his fellow Avengers to allow him such strenuous exercise-that very, very Tuesday, he probably should have figured things would not go well for him. Honestly, when did they ever?

First, it was Barton's presence in the locker room.

The trickster had just stepped inside the metallic room when he guffawed in surprise that Barton stood, back to him, perky butt exposed. Heat laced up to Loki's cheeks as the trickster tried to back away slowly without making his presence any further noticeable. Of course, as he did so, his gym bag collided into an open locker that then banged shut with a loud clang.

Barton turned his head to a profile position and had the gall to smirk.

"Something the matter, Lobster?"

Loki gulped reflexively, eyes moving to the ceiling so as to avoid admiring his former mind puppet's buttocks. He'd done enough of that for one lifetime, already.

"I-N-No, I-I was just-" Annoyance flared through the trickster at his own absurd awkwardness.

 _Get a grip_ , he chastised himself, teeth clenching tightly together.

"Good," Barton replied coldly, swinging into his favorite pair of boxers with arrows on them, and then adding his pants.

"Guess I'll see you out there," Barton's clipped tone broke through Loki's reverie, especially when the archer came close to his shoulder and practically snarled, "Just stick to your side, unless you want an arrow through your eye socket."

Nearly two minutes after Barton had left, Loki let out the breath he'd been mistakenly holding. A rush of lightheadedness compounded against his skull, and he lay out a wavering hand to the nearest monochrome locker.

 _Maybe I should go_ , he thought to himself.

But with stubbornness larger than his pride, Loki straightened his spine and refused to be hindered by Barton any longer. The assassin barely said more than two words to the trickster in all the time he'd been a part of the team, and he was proving to be the hardest to 'win over' out of all the members.

Loki flinched. Maybe 'win over' wasn't the best way to describe how his fellow teammates were treating him now.

Even so, Barton only ever threw two looks to Loki: a deep set glare and a cold, blank stare. That was all. Sometimes the archer's lips would downturn slightly, or an extra twinkle of sadism would flicker in his eyes, but beyond that, there was nothing but laced contempt and pure hatred aimed at the trickster.

So, maybe Loki should have figured today wasn't the day to spar alongside the archer. They hadn't even been in the same room together, alone, in the duration of the time Loki had been at the tower.

Yet with a confidence that was larger than the Midgardian sun, the trickster decided not to flee from his once mind controlled assassin, and took the extra time to get into his gym clothes before strutting his own stuff out into the gym.

~#~

An hour into Loki's match with the heavy set punching bag, things began to go awry. He hadn't noticed it at first, but when his aim began to drop and his punches turned to sludge, he secretly started to worry to himself.

He could still hear the arrows from Barton's bow wracking into the targets, again and again and again.

Maybe Loki should have taken some comfort in that thought, but as he stumbled backwards, it was difficult for him to find comfort in anything but the thought of him resting his head delicately to the ground below.

"Having a hard time, Lobster?" Barton's voice had a twisted, sing-song tone to it.

Loki's vision darkened around the edges as the bile rose up in his throat. He would have loved to give a retort back, but he was so focused on not vomiting again that he kept his mouth decidedly shut tight.

Green eyes looked down onto his shaking hands as he loosely curled his fingers into his palms.

Muscle weakness.

What the hell was going on with him?

Loki tried not to panic, and that, of course, meant that he was starting to panic.

From his right, the trickster could tell that Barton had placed down his bow and arrow and was beginning to slowly approach him.

For a moment, Loki panicked in thinking that this was the perfect opportunity for Barton's revenge.

 _By the Norns, he's going to kill me,_ Loki thought to himself, inexplicably sending his heart rate into overdrive.

What little control Loki had had over himself was lost in that moment.

Pain erupted into his line of vision as the colorful speckles burst into his eyes. He swung forward, hand clawing at the source of his pain. His fingers dug ineffectually at the center of his chest, trying to loosen his shirt or the pressure, it wasn't quite obvious.

Before he realized it, he was down. Collapsed, fallen, broken.

His breath came out in tattered heaves. He was lying on his side and his head felt dizzy and unattached to the pain that was radiating from the rest of his body.

"B-Barton-" the airy whisper flew from his chapped lips.

He could just make out the outline of Clint's shoes as they came to the front of his face.

 _Too close,_ he thought to himself, before his eyes rolled back into this skull and his body fell limp.

~#~

Foot pressed into Loki's throat, Clint pondered the seconds it would take for him to just fuck the trickster up. He could kick him in the face, which was what he was about to do before the demigod passed out, or he could just toss an arrow into him for no other reason than because he could.

Clint sighed. It'd be lovely if he could muster up that level of strength, but he knew he didn't really have it in him. The demigod, for what it was worth, had stayed clear of him the last few months, actually, even from the start.

Clint also knew you just didn't kick a guy when he was down.

He at least had the decency within him to only hurt the trickster if a punch flew his way or in the direction of any of his teammates. Revenge, he decided, could wait another few months.

~#~

Clint had dragged over a cluster of blue mats in order to perch upon them and watch Loki from afar. He wasn't going to leave the guy there, he realized, as he didn't want to deal with the backlash from his teammates later. Besides, it's best not to turn your back on the enemy after all. Even if that enemy is still just shredded pieces within your skull and people really just expect you to move on from it. No one said this mind control business would be easy to get over, Clint huffed.

As Jarvis rang the alarm for their fellow teammates, he was not surprised to find Bruce was the first to respond.

He couldn't help but smirk though when Steve bowled in right after.

Steve got to Loki first, gently easing the trickster onto his back as Bruce checked his pulse.

"It's high," the doctor murmured, more to himself than anyone else.

"Still think that's just normal for him?" It would have been a cruel quip if it weren't for the concern and worry lacing up and down Steve's eyes.

Bruce responded with a somewhat pained expression.

He chewed on his bottom clip for a moment, considering their options.

"Think you can get him down to the medical bay?" Bruce asked; eyes soft with care as he brushed back raven hair.

"You don't think-?" Steve began, and Bruce's serious flitted gaze to him was all that needed to be said. Steve sighed, and then nodded his ascension. "He's not going to like it, especially when Thor's alerted."

"His health comes first. Whether Thor's aware or not, is not a matter I'm concerned with anymore," but Bruce's voice wavered in uncertainty, showing that he did still care, especially since Thor might have the physiological answers that they were going blind into.

"I should never have let him-" Bruce continued, eyes growing dark.

"Hey, it's not your fault. Don't blame yourself, there's a reason they call him Silvertongue, you know. Also, you should probably hurry up." Barton interjected; gesturing to Loki's lolling head.

With that said, Steve hoisted Loki's form into his arms, bridal style, and began jogging to the nearest elevator.

~#~

 **Beep…beep…beep…**

A groan forced its way out of his parched throat. His lungs felt like they were on fire, and his chest ached with the remnants of a pain he had all but forgotten.

 _Oh, Hel, why have you forsaken me?_

Groggy and exhausted, green eyes slowly parted. He couldn't help but hiss in surprise with all the wires that were connected to him. He blinked two, three times before realizing that Midgardian medicine was truly, truly strange. It's not like he had been around it many times, and now he could distinctly recall why that was.

Biting his lip, Loki grumbled about stopping that incessant beeping.

"'Fraid we can't do that, buddy," Stark stood nearby, bottle of scotch in his hand as he tilted back the bottle and smiled politely. "Wouldn't want you to die," he waved a hand in the air dismissively, "and have your father kill us all if we let that happen."

"He's not-" Loki began, but he didn't have the strength in him to finish. He rolled his head back onto the pillow behind him, staring up at the bright, luminescent lights.

"Yeah, yeah, you've got daddy issues. Don't we all?" Stark muttered, taking another shot from the scotch.

"Tony, I let you be in here when you said you'd stop drinking that," Bruce's voice came into the scene as he checked up on some of the monitors surrounding their patient.

Before Tony could respond, Bruce pointed to the beeping machine just to the right of Loki's field of vision.

"That machine is recording your vital signs, basically your heart rate, oxygen levels and your temperature." Bruce shifted uncomfortably for a moment, "We were kinda hoping you knew your normal vital signs in order for us to determine what may be abnormal for you. Compared to us humans, your body temperature is considerably lower by about ten degrees. Your oxygen levels are normal but your heart rate…" Bruce trailed off, hoping Loki could supply the answer to that crucial question.

Loki, instead, appeared to have zoned out, staring with curiosity at the machine that sounded out the rhythm in his chest.

There was a pause in the conversation, so much so that Bruce gave a small smile and turned away, letting the trickster have his moment. He'd be nearby anyhow, to answer any further questions the trickster had, and for when he was ready to answer theirs.

Loki's green eyes trailed over the blips and little round hills that went up, over, spiked, down, and over again.

He blinked, and in that moment it all just hit him at once.

He had let go at the edge of the Bifrost. He had fallen into the void, and he had been tortured by the Chitauri and Thanos. He had fought against the Avengers in the battle of New York. He had gone 'home' to the Asgardians who raised him but whose love for him was still questionable at best.

He was set out on a rock when he was born. He wasn't supposed to survive. Everything Loki had been through had been obstacles in his way of pursuing his own happiness, his own worth and his very own life.

And he had given up his life a few times in that mixture. He would be a fool to ignore the notion that he wasn't still ambivalent about his worth as a…monster? Frost Giant? What was he?

A distant, somber look entered into his green irises. How many times had he come close to death and just brushed it off like it was no big deal?

And now, he was reminded by this machine, that while a god, he was still mortal. He would not live forever. He would perish and what would his legacy be? Would it be all the damage, hatred and disappointment he caused? Or would his time fighting alongside the Avengers, rather than against them, redeem his soul? Would people think less or more of him?

Unbidden tears welled up in his eyes. What did it matter anyway? The Allfather had sent him here, banished him to Midgard, and now he was to be broken by some mysterious illness?

What if it was chronic? Permanent. What if there was nothing to be done? What would he do then? How could he possibly be of use to the Avengers if he were to pose more of a collateral damage than an aid?

He closed his eyes tightly, he couldn't think that way, couldn't allow his thoughts to swing wildly in the way they were trying. It would just be better to leave them in the shadows, rather than confront the reality of which Loki was sure would arrive on his lap. If he thought fighting alongside the Avengers was rough, a sedentary life spent in a prison on Asgard would be even worse...

A warm tear ebbed down the contours of his face. Internally, he set aside his emotions, burying them as deeply as he could, with a forced exhale that came striding out of his nostrils, as he suddenly sat up and began to tear out the electrodes on his chest.

"I am not sick!" Loki declared loudly, attempting to convince the others as much as him. "I do not require your meager aid!" He grabbed at a nearby tissue, why they were near his bed was ignored, and wiped down the slime that some of the little pads had left behind.

"Whoa there, Reindeer Games, hold up a minute, all right?" Stark finally set down his bottle at the commotion that had suddenly erupted in the room. Tony had thought it was interesting the little moment Loki had had with his heart monitor (it would have been cooler if Tony would have had time to mess around with it to get it to speak) but this reaction was out of left field for sure. And maybe, just maybe, it was more to do with the demigod than the fact that Tony's mind was abuzz.

Tony leaned over to Loki's bedside, trying to grab onto the disconnected wires as the machine blared a shrill noise.

"Do not touch me, mortal!" Loki spat, swatting at Tony's hand.

Tony straightened up at that comment. _Weird,_ he thought _, Loki hasn't acted like this since he's joined the team_.

Tony shot a scrunched up expression to Bruce, whose glasses were at the bottom of his nose as he set them down onto a clipboard and came over, head tilted.

"Loki? We need you to stay where you-" he began but was soon cut off by an enraged snarl.

"No! I need **you** to stay away from me!" He pulled out the last wire, almost yanking it from the machine it was connected to, which was reading out similar lines onto a pink sheet of paper.

"I wouldn't-" Tony began, as he saw Loki reach for the intravenous needle in his arm.

The trickster easily pulled it out and paid no attention to the blood that squirted out lightly.

Loki shot a glare to Tony, before he began to swivel to his feet.

"I am fine! I do not require your services any longer. Just, let me go," Loki's voice cracked at his last phrase, the same darkness in his eyes returning for the briefest of moments.

As his feet touched the floor, however, he found his legs could not support him. Feebly, he slid down the side of the bed to the floor. He slammed his fists into the white floor around him, crying out in frustration and stress.

What was happening to him? What was he going to do?

He was so useless. He was so pathetic. And he thought he could have been a king? What sort of king throws a hissy fit in a room amongst his enemies?

Pain barely registered in his mind until he felt himself gasping for breath again. Why? Why was this happening to him? WHAT was happening to him?

Tears formed in his eyes as he begged, "Please! Please make it stop."

He felt the red organ within his locked chest flutter and flap like a bird in the sky. Oh how he wished then that it would silence! Why continue pushing him through this unnecessary pain? He scrunched his eyes tighter until he saw the familiar kaleidoscope of colors. Maybe he could drown himself out in the swirling lights, like how he had when he traveled through the void.

The void.

He could feel more tears run down his face. He was having a mental breakdown just as his body was collapsing without his control and everyone was there to witness it. And if they weren't, it was likely being recorded so they could witness it later.

Loki's breath hitched as the hiccups of sobbing and snot rolled through his system. He flinched when a cold touch landed on his chest. It felt like the hands of the Other squeezing around his neck and he coughed in reflex, shivering as the memories came and grouped together, triggering off other separate memories that caused his heart to beat faster.

As if it wasn't already Hel enough.

"Loki," Bruce softly whispered, eyes cast over the shivering demigod. "Loki, you're okay, you're going to be okay." Bruce tentatively reached out a hand and placed it on the demigod's shoulder, rubbing his thumb slightly into his pale flesh.

"We're going to figure this out. You're not alone in this."

 _Not alone?_ By the Norns he **felt** alone. He didn't have the strength in him to respond however, so he just continued to hiccup, bawl and cry out in pain.

Somewhere in the distance there was some commotion, he faintly heard Stark and Steve by the door, until a familiar hard stomping came cascading towards his fallen form.

"Thor!" Loki gasped, emotion clogging up his vocal cords as he instinctively reached out like a child to his not-brother.

Thor had **come**. Thor was **there**. Now it was true, that he wasn't alone.

* * *

 **A/N:** Oh the feels! Sorry for all the Loki feels in this update *super sly grin* I hope that you all enjoyed this! It's been a hell of a long time but I hope this lonnnng update was good and fun to read. Sorry if anyone is a bit OOC. And for getting a bit sappy into what's going on with Loki's mind and what he thinks about what's happening to him. But ta-da, Thor has been introduced! The next chapter will pick up from here, as well. I hope the wait is not as long! Thank you for reading! And as always, I don't own anything recognizable!


	4. Chapter 4

A Little Unsteady

Chapter 4

"Loki!" Thor rushed into the medical wing's room, barely having time to take in the sight of Bruce Banner, Tony Stark or Steve Rogers. All he saw in his blue eyes was his world: his younger brother, Loki.

A Loki, who at the moment, was currently residing upon the floor in a crumpled heap. His eyes were scrunched up tightly and his back lay against the trunk of the table where he was meant to be laying upon. Midgardian machines beeped and uttered their grievances of annoyance at being disconnected, and Thor saw, additionally to his brother's plight, that Loki's arm was lightly bleeding.

He took in another moment of Loki's struggling gasps for air before he landed by his brother's other side, placed a heavy hand on his shoulder and aimed his blue eyes at Banner.

"What is the meaning of this? What's wrong with him?" Thor easily demanded, eyes narrowing in distrust as he continued to gather in him brother's ailment.

"Uh, well," Banner began but a hiccup and a cry uttered from Loki's lips as he shuddered out his own response.

"Everything, T-Thor, everything is **wrong** with me!" Loki sobbed again, a hitch in his breath and tears overwhelmingly pouring down his face. "I was born to die! This is the Allfather's punishment for my having sur-survived. I should be dead, I should be dead," Loki's voice turned into a howling wail, as his eyes expunged countless tears and his throat began to feel like it was constricting. He fought for every breath he took, as he always had, but this time it felt so much worse.

"The Chitauri-" Loki's words were choked off by another sob. His shoulders rattled as his shirt became damp with the tears and the sweat that rolled off his body. "They were right to have t-t-tortured me." Loki hiccupped again, eyes blearily opening to meet Thor's for the briefest of moments. "I-I deserved it. I deserve…" Uncharacteristically to the trickster, Loki leaned forwards towards Thor like he had once done as an upset little boy. He grabbed loosely onto the red cape that Thor wore, burying his face into the soft cloth that reminded him of the mother he shouldn't have been proud to have.

A mother whose love could do nothing to sort through the hell he'd been exposed to in the last few years.

Loki's voice cracked and pleaded behind his cries, muttering nonsensical words and phrases as he pleaded death to his older not-brother.

"Please, please," Loki muttered, as Thor brushed a gentle hand through Loki's hair.

Thor began to make hushing sounds, humming along to a tune that their mother once sung to them as little boys, in the hopes that the familiarity would calm Loki and remind him that he still had a home in Thor's and Frigga's heart, and that he always would.

"It's okay, Loki, it's okay," Thor murmured, voice lowered so that the other team members wouldn't hear. Suddenly, Thor recalled that for the moment, there WERE other team members in the room, and he still had not gotten his questions answered.

Thor glared up at Bruce, then at Tony and Steve. "What have you done to my brother?"

Tony's hands immediately shot up.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa there Goldilocks, I haven't-in fact, WE haven't done a thing to him."

Thor's eyes narrowed further in both suspicion and malice.

"You must have done something to put him into this state!"

Loki whimpered beneath him and Thor's concerned gaze returned to his brother once more, just as Bruce, still holding onto Loki's shoulder began to speak.

"Really, Thor, we haven't done anything to him. We brought him here because…" Bruce glanced at Tony, knowing this might not go the way they had hoped, and Tony nodded in encouragement. "Because well, Loki has been having… 'Attacks' recently." Bruce uttered sheepishly, not sure what to call the incidents that Loki was being afflicted by.

"What kind of attacks? My brother has not been harming anyone, has he?" Thor asked in confusion, his lips dry as he stared between each of his teammates, for the most part ignoring Steve.

"No, Thor, but Loki has been passing out a lot and we're all concerned for his safety as well as ours if something like this should happen while we're all on a mission." Steve replied compassionately, being acknowledged once again by the thunder god.

"Fainting?" Thor questioned, perplexed. "My brother has been fainting and no one had told me?" His cerulean eyes flashed in annoyance once more, his teeth grounding into his bottom lip.

"To be frank, he didn't want us to tell you," Tony replied, hand coming to rest on the back of his neck.

Thor sighed, understanding soon winning over his features.

"Loki never did want to let me know if he was ailed. It was something about him wanting to appear strong and mighty amongst my friends and I, but it would always cost him in the end." Thor smiled bitterly, familiar with this side of Loki.

"Right," Bruce said, nodding. "Well, he's got a lot more people counting on him this time around, so let's all try to get to the bottom of what is happening."

Thor tilted his head.

"I'm sorry doctor Banner, but what is this need to treat his fainting?" Thor noticed his friends shocked expressions and decided to continue before they thought ill of him, as well. "It's just that on Asgard, healers would normally provide rest and potions to help one sleep off the issue, if it were an issue like Loki's as you are describing to me. Not so much run these, er, tests to find out what is happening. I… I merely wish to understand."

Bruce nodded, encouragingly.

"Well, Thor, it hasn't just been one fainting spell. Loki has passed out about three times now-"

"That we know of." Tony cut in.

"-and each time the spell gets worse. He's been experiencing other symptoms alongside the fainting like vomiting, muscle weakness and what we all suspect now is tachycardia, or a fast heart rate." Bruce's eyes scanned over Loki's form, the trickster having spent himself emotionally and physically. He wanted to ask Thor another question but wasn't sure if now was the right time. Then again, when was it ever the right time?

"Do you know Loki's normal heart rate?" Bruce asked and didn't miss a beat as Loki squirmed almost timidly in response to hearing this.

Thor opened and closed his mouth for a moment.

"I…do not. We do not have such primitive machines as yours upon Asgard, and measuring one's heart rate was never deemed important. I… do not even know how we would measure something like this." Thor pointed to his own chest almost as if he were trying to measure his heartbeat himself.

Bruce smiled politely.

"That's okay, Thor, we'll just have to run some tests. Mainly, keep Loki on a Holter monitor for twenty-four hours, or the course of a day. This machine," Bruce demonstrated what the monitor looked like, small and black with wires coming out of it, "will record your brother's heartbeat as he goes about his normal activities. We'll want him to write in a journal what he's doing, in case anything comes up and we can further test if there's a relationship between his behaviors or emotions and the change in heart rate. He can't get wet while wearing this, and you see these wires? They connect to little leads that will be attached to his skin. Yeah, like that." Bruce nodded and his smile widened with encouragement.

"We're going to figure this out," Bruce looked from Thor to Loki, his eyes hovering more on the fallen god. "We'll work something out, I promise, Loki."

Loki sniffled to himself, hands already rubbing at his eyes to cleanse himself from the tear streaks that resided there and to put his brain back into his skull as it felt like it was residing on the outside of his ears.

Loki took a deep breath, air coming into his lungs and cooling inside his chest. His heartbeat had returned to normal but the feeling that he wanted to just stab himself in his beating organ remained. _Oh how cruel the Allfather could be._

As Bruce began to further explain the set-up to Loki, Tony leaned into Cap's ear whispering, "Don't forget to ask him more about that whole torture thing, Capsicle. That's the first I've ever heard of it."

Steve glanced at Tony, eyes returning back to Loki as he nodded.

It was the first he had heard of it, too.

* * *

 **A/N:** Well, hello again! I am on a WRITING ROLL. I've worked up now 3 fanfics over the last day and yes, you guessed it, this baby is gonna be longer than 7 chapters. I'm thinking at least ten now, and just going with the motions to give the story its room to expand and have justice! I hope you liked this update! Feel free to leave me your thoughts or critiques in the review section! *HUGS* (Update written August 21st 2017). I did NOT read it over again before posting, but will afterwards, so you may see some occasional edits here and there if I repeated myself too much. Also, yes, I AM a cardiophile, hence why I wrote about this shit. Yeaaaah. ^^


	5. Chapter 5

A Little Unsteady

Chapter 5

 **Trigger warning: Rape, torture and PTSD.**

A gasp hurled itself into the air as darkness encapsulated the living beings within its grasp. A splutter and a cough rebounded as air was sought after greedily. A shaky hand reached out like a shadow and flicked at the light switch nearest to the bed.

As light swallowed up the room the main figure on the black and white plaid comforter sat up hastily, their eyes squeezed shut as oxygen didn't quite come easily to their lungs.

Their hand swatted out in the direction of the red chair beside them doing little to rouse its sleeping occupant.

Before the situation could reach a crisis point-lungs refilled and green eyes parted open. Black locks trailed over strong shoulders and sweat beaded at the trickster's forehead.

Eyes took in the scene around them as the nightmare-the memory even-slid further and further away.

 _I am okay. I am safe,_ he thought to himself as he swallowed nervously and the shaking set in.

Loki curled and uncurled his fingers as he tried to get the feeling back into his hands as if they had fallen asleep. Instead they just felt ice cold and the disgust that traveled through his system was nearly palpable.

He was a monster; it was all he could ever be.

He was a disgrace, a Frost giant, a speck of nothingness.

He didn't deserve good things in life and they would never filter their way into his life.

….He was meant to be ruled.

Loki growled in annoyance, shaking his head vigorously until the bedroom around him spun in a flurry of indistinguishable shapes and colors. The level of disgust rose in his throat before he angrily tossed aside the sheets and warm cocoon surrounding him so that he could swing his agile legs around and rise to his feet.

He tiptoed across the bedroom making sure to make the smallest of noises possible so as not to awaken the mighty Thor. Luckily for him, though, Thor was a heavy, heavy sleeper.

Loki trailed a hand down the accompanying wall, feeling the light bumps, imperfections and ridges within the Midgardian material until he took a left and eased himself into the bathroom. It was a small room regarding Asgardian standards but he had surmised for himself that it was rather lavish for the subhuman standards of Midgardian heroes. As he slipped his hand past the glass walls of the shower he regarded himself with the questionable notion of whether he was now a part of those heroes.

He certainly didn't feel a part of them, which he knew for certain, but as he adjusted the silver knobs to allow water to spray out of the ceiling he couldn't help but entertain the thought.

What if Loki, the trickster and pseudo-Asgardian, the mischief maker and Silvertongue creature, could become part hero?

His features curled up in disgust at the notion. He wouldn't put it past his not-brother to claim Loki as such.

But what could Loki possibly offer the Avengers?

Was he….valuable in any significant way?

His lips downturned at the thought. Loki, by definition, was **not** a "valuable" citizen.

To come to think of it, he wasn't sure if he was any type of citizen to any realm. He certainly wasn't welcome in Jotunheim, Asgard or Midgard. He was for better parts an outcast. He was unwelcome, unwanted and unnecessary. Loki was a shell of a man, and even then, not a man at all.

He sighed heavily.

What could he do? With this mysterious ailment afflicting him what did he possibly have to offer but trouble, pain, unhelpfulness and uncertainty? How could he help others when he couldn't possibly yearn to help himself?

Who was he, after all was said and done and the sun went down and the stars twinkled brightly?

Was he merely deluding himself into thinking he was important and useful in any offerable way? And worse, was he deluding the Avengers into thinking this truth as well?

Loki chewed on his bottom lip as he skimmed his hand into the spraying water, fiddling with the knobs again to cool the temperature. He began to peel away his heavy clothing from his pale skin, discarding the cloths into an unorganized heap before he slipped into the shower.

Droplets of water cascaded down meeting Loki's skin and bathing him in their sweet relief. He stood for a moment, feeling the water plip-plip-plop as it soothed the tense muscles of his back. He tilted his neck side to side to loosen the rest of the tension as he looked down on his bare feet before a flash of purple lined his vision.

Loki's gaze narrowed considerably as he felt again the remnants of the Other fondling him. Air caught in his chest as he reimagined the broken bones, the bruises and the unimaginable pain that sent shockwaves through his system. He felt suddenly like an earthquake taking place in a small village. As the people ran and screamed the tectonic plates let out a shrill scream as they rearranged themselves. Dust and pollution rose visibly in the air as he could **feel** the Other's fingered hands curl around his waist, thrusting into his ass painfully and deliberately.

Loki had bit his tongue until it pooled with his blood as he put everything into not allowing a hiss of pain to unfurl itself from his mouth. He dared to not give that satisfaction to his tormentors.

It often resulted in more torture, sadly for the trickster. He could recall his femur being broken in several places, his wrists mangled and his red blood streaking down his arms from the wounds that would be opened and reopened time and time again.

Loki could almost feel the hiss of hot breath at his ears even now, most of his memories of his childhood and adolescence colored with the trauma and horrors to befall him later in his life.

Even as his fingers raked into his hair he could feel less of the water rolling down him and more of the memories shaking their way into his skull.

 _You are nothing, trickster. You think you were special only to be wasted away, torn apart and left for dead from your utmost precious family. You will achieve nothing in your life and you deserve to die._

 _But, Thanos will not give you such pleasures. The Master is keen on his word that you shall be punished indefinitely if you are to fail in your mission. Failure to extract the Tesseract from Midgard will breed to you unimaginable pain._

 _This, trickster, is your only warning._

This particular memory wrought both physical and mental anguish to Loki's features. He quickly turned the cool metal back to its furthest left so that the water only dribbled out slowly before stopping altogether.

Stepping out onto the white tiled floor, Loki let the excess water run down his body as he caught a glimpse of himself in the rectangular mirror.

Bare flesh reflected back to him without a single blemish seen to the unsuspecting eye.

Of course, however, Loki knew himself better than anyone else and while his vision flitted between his present appearance it also remembered the horrors that awaited him each day he spent with the Others. Loki could just make out the pale white steaks that remained almost branded into his arms that only after closer inspection would be visible to mere mortals' eyes.

Green orbs searched his face for something more but Loki knew instinctively that he wouldn't find it there-not now, maybe not ever. Loki rolled his tongue over his lips, sagging shoulders into defeat as he towel dried himself and cocooned again into the folds of his clothes.

With his attire back into position, Loki trailed his fingers once again down the hallway as he approached the "elevator" as the Midgardians called the metal walled contraption. He wasn't necessarily hungry as he was bored and lightly traumatized. He reasoned in his mind that now would be a good time best eating a snack that at least held the possibility of him returning to the present moment.

As the elevator dinged its descent, the doors parted and Loki traveled out, hand lingering on the peculiar texture of the wall as he rounded the corner and entered the kitchen.

To both his dismay and delight, he discovered he was not alone.

"Captain," Loki said almost in a whisper.

He would have followed up with a further response but his brain felt twenty yards behind him and he couldn't unhinge his jaw to say what few words were in his mind.

The Captain gazed up at him, barely concealed surprise reflecting in his blue eyes. A spoon lay cradled in his hand as he scooped up rounded O's and placed them delicately into his mouth.

He chewed for a brief pause before gesturing to the trickster.

"Loki," he began, eyes flicking to the blue digital numbers overhead on the microwave. **2:26am** read the clock. "You're awake."

It almost sounded like a question, Loki thought to himself.

"Captain," Loki repeated, shifting uncertainly on his feet.

"Are you hungry?" Cap asked, gesturing to the open cereal box near him on the wooden table.

Loki shrugged a shoulder, padding quietly over to the Captain.

"Sure," he said, getting to the nearest cabinet and taking out a dark red bowl and spoon from the dishwasher.

He filled his newly acquired bowl with milk, adding in the cereal sheepishly as the two men sat in uncomfortable silence.

Loki pulled one of the chairs back that sat across from the Captain, taking his seat slowly.

Cap took a quick breath in and let it out.

"What's got you up this early?" he asked, eyes nodding at Loki's form.

Loki smiled tensely.

"We really don't have to put up with the pleasantries, Captain." His voice was velvety smooth, hiding, he hoped, his true emotions.

Cap's eyes took on a confused nature.

"Oh, no, I didn't mean-"

Loki held up a hand.

"It's all right," he paused, taking a bite from his spoon. "I….had a…bad dream," he said this slowly and for the most part quietly as he wasn't sure he should be admitting this even while he told the truth.

Was this a conversation he was really willing to have?

Maybe it was better to say nothing at all.

At the same time, his extravagant lies have become too tiresome to maintain. There was always so much work that lined his skull that he had to keep track of and he had truly grown old of them. Maybe some things weren't meant to last forever. Loki figured he could give himself the chance to entertain this thought.

Cap nodded slowly like a sloth changing branches.

A silence fell between them again, but this time it wasn't so uncomfortable.

Loki felt an internal pressure building up inside him. He opened his mouth to release them and found himself uttering the words, "I've been tortured."

Cap's eyes didn't lower in shame, he didn't stop eating his cereal and he didn't look onto Loki with pity. For this, Loki felt a swirl of gratitude. For months he had been too ashamed to utter the words that so easily had just flown from his lips and now he felt the void within him filling with hope.

Maybe, after all, Loki was something and maybe he was someone who had things to offer the world. Even if that world was only Midgard.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Cap asked, looking over Loki for a moment.

He didn't appear to feel one way or the other, meaning that if Loki chose not to he didn't have to talk about it. Loki for the first time in a long time felt the choice was being presented to him. He found the warmth inside his chest was a testament to how much he enjoyed that empowerment.

"I…guess," Loki said, entering a new form of territory he had felt closed off to for ages. Before the Captain could take back his words, Loki heard himself say, "It was after I fell from the Bifrost. My…father…" Loki sighed. "He's not my father but yet he still is." Loki stared down at his fingers that loosely held his spoon. Metal was easier to stare at because it didn't have competing thoughts and feelings. It just was and it merely existed.

Oh, how long it had been for Loki to just merely exist without the thoughts, feelings and nightmares to keep him awake and alarmed for days. He shook his head, trying to root himself back to the current moment. He was having more trouble with that as of late and he didn't know why. Speaking of…

"I don't know why he didn't tell me I was adopted. I don't know why he lied, why he kept this façade up and why he didn't think I **mattered** enough to know the truth…I don't know why I didn't see it coming sooner. I'd always been different, always lesser than. I should have…" he trailed off. He did the only thing he was sure of in that moment which was to eat more of his cereal.

As he chewed, he continued speaking. He hadn't spoken this much in all the time he's been living with the Avengers.

"I let go on the Bifrost because there was nothing left for me on Asgard. Thor is…practically delusional. Even at my hearing the poor fool couldn't keep his mouth shut from adding his two cents of pleas to the Allfather."

Loki showed his distaste by rolling his eyes.

"He tried batting for you?" Cap asked with a thoughtful expression on his face.

Loki nodded, "He tried talking the Allfather into not executing me."

Cap adjusted his gaze.

"And you would have preferred an execution?"

"Of course," was Loki's automatic reply. "Execution would spare me countless hours of reliving my hell again for all of eternity."

"Do you still feel that way?"

He paused to consider this. "With what's happening to me currently…I recognize that I am not of much use to any of you in my current condition. I…for lack of a better word have baggage. I'm…" _a waste of space,_ Loki thought.

"It's difficult," Loki amended, realizing maybe this truth telling wasn't as easy as he thought it was going to be. "I felt betrayed. I know Thor knew I was going to f-to choose to fall from the Bifrost…Everything felt so final then. I knew I didn't matter nearly as much as Thor felt I did. I…thought the void would be a quicker death than the Allfather's punishment would have bestowed upon me."

His eyes lingered on the soggy O's.

"I made my mistakes. It was likely an oversight on my part to condemn an entire race to premature death. When I fell into the void I thought that would be it. But, I was wrong."

Loki's voice grew cold as an unmistakable shudder passed through his body.

"The Other found me. Or, maybe I came to them."

Memories slid into focus in his mind's eye.

"They raped me the most, but that wasn't all that they did. They were merciless. No emotion, no true motivation. They broke me down into fragments of myself for them to wield as a "stronger" weapon. They got into my skull and populated there like rabbits. I was their maker, and in that, their tool. Without me, the project would not have sufficed. They needed me, they required a ruler. It was simple, really. Bring them the Tesseract and then I could know peace. It was a hope, at least, through all of the darkness. It was a hope I found myself chasing. I realize now it was likely never going to occur. The Other don't appreciate freedom and they never intended to give me mine. We're all just meant to be ruled."

Loki took this opportunity to sit back fully in his chair. He felt the hard wood nuzzle against his shoulders as he gathered the courage within him to raise his green eyes.

What he found was the Captain leaning toward him, hands knotted together with his chin resting on his knuckles. A mixed expression of pain and compassion lingered in his eyes. His eyes appeared almost glazed over and it took a minute for Loki to realize it was because there were tears in his eyes. Tears for **Loki** , of all beings. Tears that were meant for **him**. **Loki**. The notion of it was so absurd that Loki had to consciously stop himself from laughing out loud. Instead, neck tilted back, he paid attention to the words that came from the Captain's mouth.

"Despite everything you're still here."

A thoughtful look passed like clouds over Cap's face.

"I mean, so many things could have been different. Had the smallest thing have changed you might not have ever been back here on Earth at all." He paused. "You're stronger than you realize, Loki. I'm sorry that you were tortured-no one deserves that. It's going to take time for you to heal. And I'm glad that you're here-despite how weird that is to say… You have survived the unthinkable and you do have a lot to offer the team. It doesn't excuse what you did in New York yet together we may be able to find our way through this. Earth may not have been the place you wanted to return to, let alone that you wanted to return anywhere at all, but it's got to be better than death. I hope that someday you're able to come to that conclusion yourself-and if it's not too conceited of me to say, I hope our team can help you to get there." Captain took a long hard look at Loki, almost as if he was inspecting him, before he sighed softly and a half smile appeared tugging at the corners of his lips. "If you ever want to talk to any of us again, we're here to listen," he chuckled, "except maybe Tony." His smile widened in jest.

Loki couldn't help his own from forming on his lips.

"Thank you," and for once he really meant it. He had been offered kindness when maybe he didn't deserve it. But he entertained the thought that maybe one day he would. Maybe there was a someday out there for him after all. Maybe Loki could be okay.

And maybe, just maybe, he actually looked forward to finding out.

* * *

 **A/N:** Phew, okay, that was A LOT. This started out as 8 handwritten pages and came out to 9 typed pages. If there are any typos I missed, my apologies! It's been a long time coming for an update, I know! I'll try not to take as long for another one.

The whole rape aspect to the torture was surprising even to me but it's where the words brought me. I guess, don't shoot the messenger, right?

I will also be updating a bunch of "Severed" and "Distorted & Disordered" if you happen to read those. I hope this further backstory is good and fitting for where this story has been going since you've started reading. I hope Cap's speech isn't too sappy, either. But hey, we're all in need of some sap sometimes ;) Leave a review, if you can! I'll see you next time.

This was written: 2/8, 3/2, 3/5 and typed 3/11/18


	6. Chapter 6

A Little Unsteady

Chapter 6

"Loki." A voice plunged through the darkness surrounding Loki's consciousness. Loki could feel himself wanting to turn away from the voice and plaster his face deep within the fluffiness of his pillows.

"Loki." The voice repeated his name and Loki could tell this was a losing battle of wills. He grumbled in response, hand flailing outwards to shoo away the disembodied voice.

"I am not going anywhere," the voice amended, which Loki knew meant this was Thor talking.

"What do you want?" Loki said into the pillow which came out like 'whatchamen want.'

"It's late, nearly past noon." Thor said this in a way that insinuated it was obvious.

"So?" Loki failed to see the importance of this news.

"So, you need to get up."

"Why?" Loki felt the will inside of him to be difficult surge to life; he couldn't help but smile into the vanilla scented fabric at Thor's loud sigh.

"Because it's late."

"So?"

"Loki," Thor's voice hardened. "We need to talk."

Loki huffed loudly as though the task was beneath him-and for all intents and purposes it _was_ -and hunched himself onto his elbows, palms resting into the bedspread as he hurled himself to an upright position.

Hair disheveled and eyes still tired, Loki flashed a beaming smile towards Thor.

"You rang?"

Thor lifted the medium-sized device of the Holter monitor with its long wires up in his hand with a questioning look reflected in his cerulean eyes.

"What is this?"

Loki blinked. "It's the-"

"No, Loki." Loki shuddered reflexively at the phrase. "I know what it is. _Why_ is it here," he jiggled the device lightly, "and not on you?"

Loki's eyes narrowed and he huffed again. "I don't need it," he muttered quietly.

"What?" Thor's eyes shined with confusion.

Loki wasn't sure if he hadn't truly heard him or if he was goading him.

"I-" Loki straightened his slumped shoulders. "-do not require it."

Thor looked to him sadly.

"Oh, Loki, why do you do this to yourself?"

Loki frowned. "Do _what_ exactly?"

Thor plopped the monitor onto the bed gracefully then came around the side to sit close to his younger sibling. Loki fidgeted slightly, it had been a long time since the two had sat close together, besides the incident in the medical bay, and Loki couldn't quite suppress the anxiety that came up with bad memories as his knees knocked with Thor's. Thor was so close Loki could feel the heat of him radiate outwards and almost slap Loki in the face. He drifted his eyes downcast until Thor reached out and tilted up his chin so that they were looking into each other's eyes.

"You do not have to battle this alone, brother."

Loki whimpered softly, eyes shifting again out of embarrassment and shame. "I'm used to it."

He wasn't and Thor seemed to know that.

"That doesn't make it right." Thor's fingers trailed across Loki's cheek. "Brother, what is wrong?"

Tears sprang to Loki's eyes like water from a fountain.

"I do not know," Loki replied honestly. "I shouldn't even live."

Thor tried blinking away his own tears.

"Loki, you are my brother and you always will be. But you have to break this cycle of doom and gloom. You do not have to suffer alone, Loki. I am here for you, always. You need only to reach out for support and take care of yourself; that is all I am asking."

Sadly, Thor realized that Loki didn't understand.

"But you weren't there." Loki uttered in a hollow tone.

"When?"

"No one was there…."

"Loki?"

"I called for you…I called for mother and I called for father but none of you came. I was alone. I will always be alone." He paused. "I should be dead."

Thor bristled at Loki's cold, solemn words.

"Loki, I only wish to understand. Why do you feel this need to deny the help being offered to you?"

"I don't deserve it. I am nothing, no one…I was meant to be ruled." This latter phrase was merely whispered and the vacant look in his eyes returned.

Loki recalled his vision tunneling, his ears chopping sound like helicarrier's wings swung-swooped the air and he felt the heat of Thor nuzzle into him like a hug before darkness erupted throughout his skull and memories hanged from his shoulders like babes and then, there was nothing.

~#~

Before Loki came to, the memories of the Chitauri and Thanos torture played like songs on a jukebox turned to low in the back of his skull. He could identify his brain playing memories of their rasped threats, their fists slamming into his bones until they cracked and their swords slicing into his skin unceremoniously. Loki could feel their speech halting and skipping on repeat as they collided into his eardrums yet he couldn't quite decipher all of their specifics. There were common themes however: how weak he was, how worthless, how ordinary and how he was alone and no one cared enough about him to even try and save him. It was these words that hurt the most because Loki was the only one to hear them with no one around him to tell him that they were not true. What made torture the epitome of terrible, he found, was less the physical pain and more the words of venom that leaked into his brain until they became truth. Because once Loki spun these lies into truths he would play them back in his own mind over and over, so much so that he begun to believe in them. And once belief came, freedom and peace were lost and Loki had a mission to attend to in the form of ruling Midgard. Because only when one knows pain can one be expected to do everything they can to be the one wielding it rather than being the victim of it.

All of this was to say that Loki was majorly fucked up. He hated how weak that made him, having to rely on Thor and the Avengers to help him.

Thor was right-he didn't want help. He didn't want to be let down again. Sometimes the worst part about feeling hope was the inevitable let down that would eventually come. Loki didn't trust others well, he'd been taught that at an early age and he had spent centuries believing it to be fact not fiction.

To completely overthrow everything he had learned in life was difficult at best and appallingly overwhelming at worst.

How could Loki move forward when he was so encapsulated by the past? Everything that had happened to him could be explained away by the fact that he was unworthy, unloved, often abandoned and completely and utterly worthless. To have the gall to expect anything else was ludicrous and entirely frightening. Because if Loki was loved, was worthy, was even flawed-then he would have no answer, no **reason** to have been tortured, raped and nearly brought to death over and over again.

Because at least being the problem meant there was a reason-but if he was not the problem than his torture could not be explained away. And having no answer felt far more uncomfortable and unwelcome than Loki cared to admit. It was easier to believe in the perpetual lies, to push others away, so Loki could lick his wounds in peace like a kicked puppy.

He felt it was for the best. If Loki could find some solace in his pain then maybe it meant not everything was lost.

But Loki's boat was starting to lose its buoyancy, because of what the super soldier told him the night before, the words that Thor used, the notion that Barton didn't try to kill him when he had his last episode, the fact that Bruce offered him hope and support…These external actions didn't add up to Loki. They were anomalies. They had to be lies well-constructed and acts well played. Because the opposite could hardly be true; Loki couldn't possibly _matter_.

This thought he clung to. He had to. What other option did he have?

So Loki bit his lip and decided not to swallow his pride. If he played his cards right he could probably get out of this situation. It wasn't the best of his plans but it was a starting point.

And Loki needed that: a place to start.

~#~

"Is he all right?"

It was Thor's voice that awakened Loki again that day. He couldn't help but crack one eyelid open to scan the white room before finding his culprit.

Thor stood nervously wracking his hands.

 _He couldn't possibly be worried about me, could he?_

Before Thor's worried blue eyes could find his, Loki closed his eyes and pretended to still be unconscious. Sometimes you need to know which battles to fight and which to let go of. This moment was mission: find out more about what's going on before Loki opens his mouth.

It was unfortunate that his nose suddenly itched and he was unable to move to scratch it without running the risk of blowing his cover.

"His vitals appear normal for the situation that occurred. What did you say happened again?"

Loki imagined Thor shifting from foot to foot.

"I entered his quarters and found him still in bed with the device lying on the nightstand."

"He did take a shower early this morning when he met me for a…late night snack." That was the super soldier.

"So do you think there's a chance that he took it off to bathe and forgot to put it back on after?"

"I suppose it's a possibility…He sounded and looked strange when we spoke, though."

"Strange how?"

Thor's lips pursed. "My brother was adamant to the idea that he was alone in this and that he did not matter... He, I'm afraid, has felt this way before in our childhood but I was too foolish to notice and too ignorant to know what to do about it. He has never voiced these fabrications so much until now, however." Loki could feel Thor staring at him and he couldn't dampen the feeling of his skin crawling.

"He did talk this morning about feeling unworthy and…" The Captain paused, unsure how to proceed. "He spoke about his time falling from a Bifrost, whatever that is, and how he felt he could never measure up to you, Thor."

Thor nodded, mutely. "My brother mumbled about being ruled, which I found odd."

Steve made a noise of agreement.

"He was tortured." The words came from Stark, which Loki couldn't help but feel surprised about. He measured his breaths evenly, so as not to arouse suspicion. "He probably feels worthless and it sounds like it's not the first time he's felt these feelings. He's probably grasping at straws to understand why he was tortured. If those creatures gave him no reason he probably feels that he, himself, is to blame. It's the only irrationally logical conclusion. It's how I would have felt too if I had been tortured by them." Stark discreetly leaves out the implication of his own torture by mere mortals, though Loki feels Rogers understands more than he is letting on.

Loki couldn't help but be mildly impressed with Stark's thought patterns. He knew it would have taken Thor half a century to connect the dots. He always did in the past, at least.

With everything laid out on the table so well Loki wondered how they would choose to proceed forwards.

Bruce, it so happened, was the first to break the silence.

"What's our plan of action? Because from where I'm standing we have a noncompliant patient on our hands and a deep sea of issues to muddle through-most of which is going to take time to heal and trust to be built gradually one square at a time."

Stark humphed under his breath, but Loki was surprised when the answer came from Thor.

"Let's ask the source. Brother, I know you are awake. Can you open your eyes?"

Loki took his time just to annoy his not-brother and cracked one eyelid open slowly before he blinked rapidly in the harsh light.

"Too bright," he murmured just because he could.

A form shifted to his right and the overhead light dimmed significantly.

"Thank you," Loki mentioned, eyes glancing over at each Avenger.

"What do you propose we do, brother?" Thor's eyes looked red and it occurred to Loki that he may have been crying about him at some point. _A little late but better than never,_ he thought to himself as he felt a wave of warmth blossom in his chest. In that moment, Loki identified he could share his gratitude by pulling on the string that his brother had provided.

"Give me a week to consider my options," Loki stated simply.

Thor's face exploded into dismay. He made to open his mouth but found Bruce speaking instead.

"If we do and you happen to experience another episode before the week is up, can we trust that you'll go to Thor as soon as you can and we can start the test?"

Loki couldn't help the small smile tug at the corners of his lips at the word 'trust.'

"Yes," he said reluctantly, though he wasn't sure how well he could follow through on this promise.

"Very well, brother. You have one week to think."

Tony secretly hoped they wouldn't regret it.

~#~

"This is a fine sword, indeed, Stark." Thor said boisterously, admiring the silver sheen to the blade and thrusting it back and forth in his hand. "Reminds me of Mjolnir. Quick, light and packing a mighty punch." Thor smiled at the inventor.

The billionaire nodded simply, only half paying attention. They were going on a training session battling benign crash test dummies per Nick Fury's orders. It was something about them needing further teamwork before entering into their next fight. Tony shrugged; he hadn't really been paying attention then, either, likely because they all got the meeting alert at an ungodly hour of seven AM.

Tony had barely made it into the room before the meeting began. He had noticed Loki sitting hunched in a metal chair, not even the swivel kind he might add, away from the other Avengers brewing a cold look. It took a moment for Tony to realize Loki sat unimpressed with regret pooling in his eyes.

To be fair, it was moderately awkward when the team had to brief in Fury about the situation. Surprisingly, it was Natasha who piped up about it.

"Loki needs to be off the case," Natasha worded politely, her eyes filled with promise and an air of 'it's nothing personal'about her.

Fury's one eye wandered over to the benched demigod.

"And why is that?" A tone of mistrust lingered in his low words.

Steve swooped in just in time. "He's been having issues."

"Fainting spells," Bruce clarified.

"Fainting." Fury said, slowly. He made it sound like he either didn't believe them or didn't completely care.

"It's bad, Fury," Barton piped up, legs resting in his swivel chair.

Loki sighed in protest, waving a hand in the air flippantly. "No, no, pretend like I'm not even here." He rolled his eyes.

 _No one cares about you,_ the automatic thought immediately supplied. A look of irritation flashed in his expressive face.

"But, **fainting** , really?" Fury uttered with disbelief in his voice.

Loki's irritation grew as his eyes narrowed and he threw his hands up in the air. "We gods have plights too, mortal," he grumbled, green eyes piercing the holographic image before them.

"Even something so mundane?" He asked and Loki couldn't tell if he was serious or if he was cleverly mocking the demigod.

Loki's patience, however, had run out.

"I can still crush you, mortal. Do not test my conviction so much, or you will not appreciate the view." Loki threatened, a fury replacing his features as he curled and uncurled his fists.

Abruptly, the god stood up and left the room even as Steve protested and made to follow him.

"Let him go," Barton suggested softly. "He needs to let it out on his own."

"I disagree," Thor muttered but he hesitated and didn't get up to go after his brother anyways.

Tony's brown eyes had mirrored concern, feeling as though they were losing the trickster that had been finding redemption on their side. He considered following him, and his thoughts drifted to Loki for the rest of the meeting, yet he, too, found himself remaining seated hoping, wishing, for the best while mentally preparing himself for the worst.

"Tony? Earth to Tony?"

He didn't recognize the voice right away that said his name but he did snap out of his mournful stare.

"What?"

"You were heading out to space for a bit. You all right?" Bruce's brown eyes glanced over Tony's form quizzically.

"Uh, yeah, just thinking."

Bruce nodded knowingly, "We'll talk to him later," he whispered confidentially.

Tony smiled but barely. "Thanks, Bruce. I owe you one."

"Just another bagel," Bruce replied, winking.

Tony couldn't help it but feel a shadow of foreboding eclipse his mind. He tried shaking his head to clear his thoughts and it helped marginally, before he could have sworn he saw a flicker of Loki around the corner looking sorrowful and snarling, but the image disappeared and soon Tony was suiting up and heading out the door.

~#~

"Enough," Loki relented, shoulders slumping forwards as he held his head in his sweaty palms, eyes closing away from the overturned room as he took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

" **Why** is this happening to me?" he asked in despair, his voice growling as he threw a fist out towards his side.

"Would you like me to call the team?" the voice in the walls asked, trying to be helpful.

Loki groaned. "I do **not** require their _help_."

A silence met Loki's ears and even the trickster knew a lie when he heard one.

He signed, "No, Jarvis. I…will be okay." Another lie-or was it? Was this the end for the trickster?

His eyes reflected his pervasive feelings of hopelessness. In the duration of time between the Avengers meeting and the team suiting up, Loki had demolished the remains of a large guest bedroom. Luckily the demigod had the grace and foresight to realize mucking up his own room would be ill advised. It meant he had to take the stairs in a short descent to find the room he wound up destroying and he almost hadn't made it, but luck, for once, was on his side. Since him coming down the pillows had been separated from their cases with white feathers still floating in the air (an order in the chaos), the door had been unhinged, the bookcase was scattered without shelves, chairs laid broken, the books, of course, laid intact on the floor and the bed's comforter lay disheveled, dragging on the floor even as Loki sat on it now.

It was a mess and a distraction from everything that echoed inside Loki's soul.

He struggled to shake the feeling of loneliness off his shoulders. His eyes watered and for the first time in a long while he found himself crying. He cried for all he had lost-his family, his brother, his mother, the Allfather's acceptance, his childhood, his identity, his stolen life. He mourned for the torture that had found him after the Bifrost and mourned for the Loki within him that lay broken, smashed and forgotten.

Oh, how far he had fallen.

He felt that this was it. This was everything he had left and in reality he held nothing. Imagined grains of sand fell from his fists as ashy figures entered his mind.

How quick everything he had worked for could be lost. Just in the snap of fingers Loki's whole identity could be extinguished from the universe.

Loki cried long and hard that day-alone and isolated with only the painful lies hidden in his skull.

No one but Jarvis witnessed his weakness but Loki knew this wasn't a fair assessment as so many of the other Avengers had witnessed his fainting spells too. Loki couldn't help but feel it was a failure on his part to have allowed the Avengers to see this weak side of him. It made him different, on the same plane as them and he resented that. He wasn't like them; he wasn't a part of them. Maybe he was bitter, still mourning his failure of leading Midgard, because he wanted to be better than the mortals, he wanted to be mighty and strong. He wanted…to be like Thor, except he never was. He curled up in a ball on the floor, finally, before drifting off into restless sleep.

~#~

"Sir," Jarvis began quietly.

"Hey J, kinda busy right now. But, uh, what's up?" Tony blasted through another fake brick wall, narrowly avoiding one of the dummy women without any eyes and a wig of brown hair.

"I believe we have a situation at the tower, sir."

Tony's heart clenched.

"A situation? What kind of situation?" He asked in alarm, a hundred different situations flashing before his eyes.

"Sir, Loki appears to be pacing by the front door."

"Oh." Either Tony's mind wasn't working right or the direness of the situation had yet to take hold of him. "And why's that a bad thing, J?"

"I believe he's going to leave the tower, sir."

"And why do you believe that?"

"He said this before he left."

"Wait, he **already** left?

The AI had the nerve to sound guilty. "Yes, sir, about two minutes and thirty seven seconds ago."

Tony sighed, crunching his eyes in exasperation, unable to facepalm at the moment.

"Where'd he go, Jarvis?"

"I believe he mentioned the park."

"So, some idea but not the full picture? Great. Tell Cap I'm heading out, will you, J?"

"Of course, sir."

~#~

When Tony got to Central Park he took off his armor and carried his silver suitcase with him as his feet crunched over grass and gravel, killing unsuspecting insects (though he tried not to think too much about them). The sky had darkened with a chill and threatened to drop icy rain out on the mortals below. Tony removed his dark sunglasses and hooked them onto his shirt. He wasn't in his classic band shirts rather a simple, inconspicuous gray hoodie and tight, black skinny jeans. One time Bruce had lost his pants and told Tony his were far too tight to be worn comfortably. Tony smiled fondly now at the memory.

He tried going over his words to the trickster during the remainder of his walk alone.

Would he offer Loki peace and trust? Would he remind Loki that the team and he were supporting him in whichever way they could? Would he try to pry more details out of him about his torture or should he just leave that topic untouched?

What _were_ the details? Tony didn't know Loki well enough to know when to shut up and when to pry. If he was honest with himself, he was still being careful around Loki when there were windows nearby. Loki had threatened Fury that morning and if Tony wasn't dead wrong, he felt it was more a defensive tactic than said with truth and heartfelt hatred.

But then again, he really didn't know Loki very well.

Steve was impossible to get information out of. He was a brick house of evasion, stating how he felt Loki's words were said in confidentiality rather than public knowledge to the super soldier. So, that was a bust.

Still, Tony seemed to have a few insights to the trickster than some of his other teammates. Maybe they would need this approach with Loki, one by one talking to him, showing that they care and that he matters until he starts taking the stepping stones to come to new conclusions about himself. It was worth a shot, at least.

As Tony walked, one sneaker in front of the other, he wondered what Pepper could have done to help him after Afghanistan. The thought caused some anxiety as one shoulder rose up over the other almost like a twitch. He figured maybe if Pepper had kept the alcohol in tighter quarters that may have helped. And just being there to listen if Tony ever did decide to open his mouth on the topic and to let it out; speaking of, he should probably talk about New York some time.

 _Baby steps,_ Tony thought, as he began to see the black and green outline of the demigod ahead.

First things first: project Loki.

"Hey buddy," Tony reached out a hand to Loki's shoulder before he dropped his hand awkwardly. Touching was probably a no-go.

Still, he felt the need to engage in some form of human to god contact, so thoughtfully, Tony snapped a branch off the nearest tree and lightly dabbed it on Loki's shoulder.

Loki, for his part, didn't flinch and Tony let himself breathe a long sigh of relief. He tossed the branch to the side and gracefully sat down beside the demigod, hands resting on his knees as they relaxed into a temple style in front of him.

Tony looked out at the water with Loki for a long moment of silence. It occurred to Tony how comfortable the notion was: sitting by each other, hero versus reformed villain, breathing together and just existing. It was practically poetic.

Tony couldn't help but smile at the thought.

After another moment, Tony tossed a glance over to Loki.

The trickster's green eyes lay locked on the forward scene.

Tony's lips pursed automatically as he shifted his vision back over the water. Tony could see now what Loki saw: birds flapping on the azure tranquility, little babies squawking and some attempting to take flight.

"Freedom." The trickster's voice stated in a gravely tone.

Tony watched the birds-the way they lifted their wings and splashed the surface, sending out echoing ripples and the way the sunlight stroked their water resistant plumage.

"They are free."

Tony's brown eyes fell upon Loki's form again.

"So are you," he whispered softly and ever so heartfelt.

Loki laughed.

"This is not freedom," he shook his head in disgust. "Freedom is not being confined in a tower incapable of venturing outside without someone finding you because you cannot be trusted alone. Freedom is not being locked away until your captors might have use of you. Living isn't freedom…Death is." Loki's eyes flashed with desperation and Tony could have sworn he saw pain swimming like sharks inside those green eyes.

"Yeah, but if you're dead you can't experience that freedom. So, really, the only way to feel freedom is to be alive to feel it."

Loki turned to Tony, menacingly.

"You are a fool, mortal."

"No more foolish than you." Tony immediately supplied.

Loki's eyes narrowed, he opened his mouth to retort but words flung free from Tony's instead.

"I mean, it's pretty foolish to think you can experience feelings after you're dead. Being dead trumps everything else. Once you're gone-that's it. You're gone."

"Do you not see the beauty of that?"

Tony shrugged. "I make it a rule of mine to try not to think about it. If a mission has to end that way for the greater good, then so be it. But if there can be another way to save the guy at the end of it? You can betcha that nothing in the world will stop me from taking it."

Loki's lips formed a thoughtful frown.

"Come on, after what happened in New York? I knew sending that nuke into the wormhole was a one trip mission. I could have easily not come back out. But, for whatever damn reason, maybe because the universe hates me, I fell back to Earth. I don't know what you believe in, and I don't really care to open that can of worms, but I think you're forgetting all of the great things about life. Before I started passing out I got a glimpse of all those things: shawarma, partying, Pepper, having a kid one day. All of it-and none of it would have mattered if I didn't make it back out of there. Death isn't freedom-sure, maybe it's freedom of all the shit in life, but life's not just about the shit. It's about the peace, the appreciation of all the little things. Life's about having dreams, within reason, and making them into a feasible reality. I've faced the end of the line too many times to count, and every time I'm grateful to come out of it walking or even crawling away. You have to believe that things get better because they **can**. Otherwise, what's the point? But you have to be alive at the end of the day to experience it. If you're dead, that's it. You're gone and you don't get a do-over, you don't get a second chance to make things right. You're gone as suddenly as if you were never there. And everybody else is left behind to mourn you…not that you'd be around to know that." Tony shifted his ass cheeks on the grass.

"Life can be really, really shitty. You know that. It doesn't excuse what happened to you, nothing will, yet life doesn't end there. You can feel dead inside and even wanting to die but once you're there and experiencing it, you'll put everything into wishing you could live. It's probably the most tragic thing about dying…"

A thoughtful expression lay within the lines of Loki's face.

"All of this is easy for you to say, mortal, but in this scenario you are always the hero and I always the monster." Regret pooled in Loki's eyes.

Tony tilted his head before responding with, "You're not a monster unless you choose to be."

Loki's face turned to one aghast.

"How so?"

"The way I see it, unless you're choosing to kill or rape people, you're not a monster."

"…You do understand I've done the former heavily, yes?"

"Hear me out," Tony motioned with an extended palm. "Unless you're choosing to be a monster, you're not a monster. I don't believe in all this wumbo jumbo that people, or gods, are born into evil. I think, in many ways, evil is taught. If you've grown up believing that you're nothing, why would you ever have the audacity to think any differently?" He huffed for a moment. "Look, this isn't coming out the way I want it to, but, basically, monsters aren't born, they're made. And if you can make someone into a shell of themselves, then it's also possible to repair them, to put them back together again. Do you know what I mean?" Tony's eyes searched Loki's, the oddness of the situation finally sinking in.

Loki's gaze shifted back to the birds as though he were disinterested in the current conversation, and hell, maybe he was.

"…If you can believe in all the shit in life and all the pain that has been wrought upon you, then there's hope that you can learn to experience all the best parts of life and become whole, if not again, then for the very first time."

Loki's lips twitched for a miniscule second.

"Life is worth living," he softly mused.

"Or something like that," Tony nodded, taking a moment to really, genuinely and actually, look at Loki. "Besides, there's always having sex, too."

Loki chuckled, "Of course you would point that out."

Tony smiled, hands rising above his head as he made a quick comeback. As he settled into a new position, something that Loki had said trailed again into his skull.

"You're not captured by us, you know. Maybe when all things have settled more we can talk to Fury about giving you a longer…radius to work with. It's more of a cautionary measure, really." Tony's eyes had landed on watching his fingers stroke the grass so they missed the compassion that entered into Loki's features.

"I would like to stay here for another moment."

Tony smiled, realizing this was the manner in which Loki would say thank you.

"Okay."

And maybe, just maybe, things would be okay for them all again soon.

* * *

 **A/N:** Hey everybody! First, I'd like to say thank you to everyone who is reading, viewing and leaving reviews on this story! I so, so, soooo appreciate it and it really encourages me to play around with these characters more each time. This fic has evolved in many ways and if you've seen Avengers: Infinity War (I've seen it twice by now) then you'll recognize a few of the themes/details in this new chapter.

Any who, while it's been a ride so far, I'm hoping to bring back more of what we're all trying to figure out (the fainting) into this story again soon. Until then, much more character exploration and Loki being difficult will have to do. Thank you for reading, again! This chapter was handwritten: 4.13, 4.14, 4.30, 5.4, 5.10.2018 And typed somewhere within that timeline, too, and edited 5.11. See you all again in the next one! Love & light to you all.


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